


I Killed a Guy (and didn't like it)

by SingingInTheRaiin



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Jon is not a monster, M/M, Nightmares, Spoilers for Episode 159, There were TWO beds, but they end up sharing anyways, canon character death, my poor son has been through so much, no matter what he might think, spoilers for episode 160
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:01:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21734947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SingingInTheRaiin/pseuds/SingingInTheRaiin
Summary: Jon freaks out in the wake of killing Peter Lukas, understandably enough because it is his first kill. Luckily for him, though, Martin is there to hold him up. Or maybe they're both there to hold each other up.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 16
Kudos: 209





	I Killed a Guy (and didn't like it)

Everything was fine, at first. Or at least as fine as things could reasonably expected to be, all things considered. Jon had not let go of Martin at all in the time that it took for them to traverse through the tunnels and back up into the Institute, and Martin could not deny that he enjoyed the connection. Both because it meant that he wasn’t alone, and because it was Jon who was holding his hand. It wasn’t something that Martin had ever thought he’d be allowed, and it made him regret his actions of the past year even more.

It wasn’t until they were out of the city, on their way to the safe house of Daisy’s that Basira had told them about while she tended to an unconscious Daisy, that Martin noticed that maybe everything wasn’t as fine as he thought. The car jerked slightly to the side, and Martin looked away from where he’d been staring out the window.

He saw the way that Jon’s hands were clenched so tightly around the steering wheel that all of his scars stood out in vast relief. And he saw the way that Jon’s arms were locked so stiffly in place that it surely had to hurt. He reached out to gently place his hand on Jon’s arm, and Jon abruptly slammed down on the brakes and brought the car to a screeching halt. It was a good thing that these little country roads had very little traffic on them.

Martin immediately pulled his hand away, not wanting to make things worse. “Jon?” The other man didn’t respond, and Martin started to feel scared. He started to wonder how this could be better than the Lonely, where there was no pain or fear, but then he batted that thought aside. Right now he needed to focus on Jon, and doing so gave him a sense of purpose that kept him away from the Lonely. “Jon, please look at me.”

There was a long pause, and then Jon finally turned his head to look at Martin. The inside of his glasses were smeared with tear drops, and his eyes were red. He continued to clutch the steering wheel, and he didn’t say anything at first. Martin opened his mouth, though he wasn’t sure exactly what he was going to say. He was saved from having to say anything, when more tears leaked down Jon’s cheeks, and he turned his head away from Martin. “Why are you here?”

“What?”

Jon bent his head forward so that his hair fell and blocked his face from view. “Why are you here, Martin? I was a complete prick to you for years, and you wanted to stay in the Lonely. Maybe you wouldn’t have been happy there, but you wouldn’t have to deal with any more shit.”

Martin furrowed his eyebrows. “Do you not want me here?” He didn’t think that’s what Jon was saying, but it was hard to tell. He was still reeling from spending so long repressing every feeling that he had. 

Jon slammed his head down on the wheel, hitting the horn and startling both of them with the loud noise that blared out. “God, of course I want you here. But you shouldn’t be here. You deserve to be somewhere better. Don’t you get it, Martin? I’m a monster. I’m a murderer.” He sucked in a sharp breath. “Oh, god, I’m a murderer-” he scrambled to unbuckle his seatbelt and shoved the door open, dropping to the ground next to the car. 

Martin could hear the sound of retching as he hurried to get out and go around to Jon’s side. He knelt down and slowly telegraphed his movements as he reached out to touch Jon’s back. When he didn’t get a negative reaction, he started to rub small circles on Jon’s back. “You did what you had to for us to get away.”

Jon shook his head as he stared down at his own vomit. “I could have just left him there. I’d already won, and we both knew it. I could have just walked away and left him to rot away in his own loneliness, but I didn’t, I-” He sat up a little bit so that he could tug off the sweater Basira had tossed him, revealing the bloody shirt underneath. “I did this. I’ve been getting worse and worse. You were right to try and stop me from taking statements from randoms off the street, and all I did was traumatize them for life.” He let out a manic sounding laugh. “I killed Peter Lukas. Because of me, and me alone, someone who was alive yesterday is dead now. He’s never going to do anything again, never going to be anything again. His family won’t even have a body to bury because I-” He leaned over to vomit again, and then let out several pathetic noises when there was nothing left for his stomach to expel. 

For just a moment, Martin wondered how much easier his life would be if he had never lied on his resume to get a job working at a paranormal research center. But that would require him to imagine a life without Jon in it, which was just unacceptable to him, so there was really no point in even considering such a thing, even if it was possible to go back and change things (which he was pretty sure it wasn’t, but who was he to say what was possible or not?)

Martin sighed, and continued to rub Jon’s back. “Jon? You’re not a monster. You’re not. Would a monster get this upset about- about killing someone?” Martin could see the tears drip to the ground, and he marvelled at Jon’s ability to cry silently even when they were away from all other people. Maybe it was something he had learned to do a long time ago. It’s not as though they knew much about each other, not really.

Jon didn’t say anything, and they both just sat there for a little while until Jon finally made a move to get up, and Martin helped him to his feet. He found a pack of wet wipes from the trunk and gave a couple to Jon to wipe his face with. Then he pulled off his own sweater and held it out for Jon to pull on, since Basira’s had wound up resting in the puddle of sick. Even though it absolutely was not the time for it, Martin couldn’t help thinking that Jon looked nice in Martin’s too-large sweater. 

This time, Jon got into the passenger seat, and Martin took over the driving the rest of the way. After a few minutes, Jon scooted across the seat, and hesitated for a moment before pressing himself up against Martin’s side, resting his head on Martin’s shoulder. “You’re going to regret coming with me,” he said softly. “Maybe not today or tomorrow, but I’m going to get worse, and you’re going to get hurt, and you’ll regret all of it.”

Martin scoffed. “No offense, Jon, but the last person who thought he could tell me what I feel was Peter Lukas. So if you don’t mind, I’d like to make my own decisions. And if it’s all the same to you, I’m going to remind you that neither of us can see the future,” (probably) “so I don’t need you trying to say what’s going to happen in a distant ‘someday’.”

There was silence as Jon thought that over, and then he responded in a quiet, tired voice. “Martin, you’re far too good for me.”

Martin thought back to when he’d first started having a small crush on Jon, and he’d been absolutely certain that he stood no chance. Not because he was a man, or because he was a plain looking person, or because of anything like that. No, he’d been certain he had no chance because he just knew that Jon was far too good for him. 

He didn’t think that anymore, though. After everything that they’d been through, he knew that Jon wasn’t a saint or a monster, he was just a man. A man who’d been shoved into terrible situation after terrible situation, and had been forced to make choices without having time to think them through. A man who was covered in scars, on the inside and the outside, and who had faced down every type of eldritch fear, but was only terrified of his own self. 

Martin shifted so that he was holding the wheel with one hand, and wrapped his arm around Jon’s shoulders with the others. “Still, I’d like to have my own say in it.” 

When they finally reached their destination, the stars were twinkling in the sky with too much brightness after the kind of day that had just happened. Martin cleared his throat, but Jon just made soft mumbling noises, and Martin realized that the other man had fallen asleep. And had drooled onto Martin’s shoulder. It was such a human thing, and Martin wished that he could make Jon understand how human he still was.

For now, though, he settled for scooping Jon up, and trying not to freak out by just how light Jon was. Clearly Jon had not been taking care of himself. It would be very easy for Martin to blame himself, for not being around to help, but in the end he knew that Jon needed to be able to look after himself. Of course right now, that would mean letting himself be taken care of by Martin, but that didn’t make it all Martin’s fault that Jon wasn’t very healthy. And there was also the part where Martin suspected that killing Peter had taken a lot of energy out of Jon, but Jon hadn’t even touched the folder of statements Basira had sent them off with.

Martin took a moment to appreciate how cozy the inside of Daisy’s safehouse was, and then he found a bed to tuck Jon in. He went back out to the car to grab the few things they’d been able to take with them, and brought them into the house. He’d put them all away in the morning.

The safehouse was bigger than Martin had expected, and there were two separate bedrooms. He hesitated, but in the end, he needed to respect Jon’s boundaries, since they hadn’t yet had the chance to actually talk about anything. Martin knew that they had all but confessed to loving each other, and he had heard Peter say that Jon loved him, but with everything else going on, there hadn’t been time to really talk.

Martin stripped down to his underwear and curled up under the blankets, and then found himself staring up at the ceiling. His mind was too busy going through everything that had happened for him to be able to sleep. Just when he finally managed to close his eyes for longer than a few minutes, he heard loud shouts coming from Jon’s room. 

If someone had followed them and was trying to hurt Jon, there was no time to put on pants, Martin just grabbed the gun that Daisy had left under the pillow (even though he had absolutely no experience with guns, it would hopefully serve its purpose in intimidation). He dashed into Jon’s room and looked around wildly, but there was no threat in sight.

Instead, he saw Jon flailing around in his bed, limbs tangled in the blanket, and his eyes were clearly moving rapidly beneath his eyelids. He kept letting out loud shouts, and occasional pained sounding grunts, and Martin felt completely exhausted when the adrenaline all seemed to flow out of him on the spot.

He set the gun down on the nearest flat surface, and then made his way over to the bed. He leaned over to gently shake Jon’s shoulders. “Jon, wake up. Jon, you need to wake up!” Jon’s eyes snapped open, and he panted loudly as his eyes darted all around the room. They had a glassy sheen to them, and Martin got the feeling that Jon wasn’t actually seeing anything in the room. Martin knelt on the bed and pulled Jon up so that they were looking directly at each other. “Jon, look at me,” he said in a firm voice. If Jon could pull Martin out of the Lonely, then Martin could pull Jon out of whatever nightmare he was trapped in. “Jon, you’re safe. We’re in Scotland, in Daisy’s weirdly cute house, and I’m here. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.” His voice broke on the last word, but he just cleared his throat and kept going. “Jon, I swear I’m not going anywhere, but I can’t do this alone. We need to get through this together. Please come back to me, Jon.” He gently rocked Jon back and forth, and then kissed the top of Jon’s head. 

The next few seconds passed by excruciatingly slowly, and then lucidity entered Jon’s eyes. He let out a shuddering gasp, and then smushed his face into Martin’s shoulder, wrapping his arms around Martin in a desperate plea for contact. Martin was glad to provide it, and returned the hug, pulling Jon as close to him as he could. “I killed him, Martin,” Jon’s voice came out a low rasp. “I killed someone. I killed someone! And I’ve hurt so many people, and they’re all trapped in these terrible nightmares because of me, and I’m stuck there with them, and I just want it to stop! I just want it to stop.”

Martin rested his cheek on top of Jon’s head. Maybe it had been a mistake to let Jon sleep in the bloody shirt, but the sight of Martin’s sweater on Jon had been enough of a distraction that he’d pretty much forgotten to take care of it. “You’re okay,” he whispered. “We’re both okay. We’re both going to be fine, I promise.” 

Eventually the tension seeped out of Jon’s body, and he slumped against Martin bonelessly. Martin started to pull away, but Jon suddenly tightened his grasp of him. “Don’t go. Please don’t go.”

“Sh, sh, it’s alright. I’m not going anywhere,” he promised. He kissed the top of Jon’s head again, and then went about shifting them around so that they were both lying down under the blankets. They remained thoroughly entwined with each other, and Martin didn’t even think to be bothered about the fact that he was basically naked while Jon was fully dressed. Such a thing didn’t really matter, not in that moment. All that mattered was that they were there together, and they were going to hold each other up in the aftermath of all the traumatic bullshit that they’d suffered through. 

In the morning, when Martin woke up pressed up against Jon as close as was humanly possible, he thought that it just felt… right. It wasn’t like magic and sparks and a soulmate connection, but it felt like it was just the way things were meant to be. Or maybe the way they had always been.

Eventually Jon’s eyes fluttered open, and he immediately averted his gaze, clearly embarrassed about last night. Martin gently pulled his arm free from where Jon’s head had been resting on it, and very carefully held Jon’s chin. “Please don’t hide from me,” he whispered. “I- I don’t know if this is the right time to say this, but I also don’t know if there will ever be a right time, so I’m just going to- I love you, Jon.”

Jon’s eyes widened, and a lovely flush appeared on his cheeks. “Martin, I- I-”

“It’s okay if you can’t say the words,” he assured Jon. 

Maybe Martin would always feel just a little bit insecure about it, but he also knew that this wasn’t easy for Jon. Before he could ask what Jon wanted to breakfast, Jon blurted out, “I love you too!” And he looked completely shocked by his own words. Then he gave Martin a small, foolish grin. “I do. I love you too, Martin.”

Martin knew that there was still a lot that they needed to talk about, and he knew that they would need to figure out a way to help Jon work through some of his worst memories, but in that moment, Martin felt high on Jon’s love. The world was not a perfect place, and neither Jon nor Martin were perfect people, but it was a perfect moment between two people who were perfect for each other.


End file.
